Ranmachan in Fur
by MadPanda
Summary: Ever wonder how Ranma manages to heal so quickly from even major damage? Someone's looking out for him and helping him stay mostly intact. But as happens all too often, something goes wrong...and Ranma gets a vacation. Sort of. Just until her new frie
1. Default Chapter

This is my mind. Welcome to it. Credits will follow the main feature. Out-of-character and Self-insert warnings abound. Ranma belongs to the nice folks at Viz Video and to the wonderful, wild, wicked Takahashi Rumiko. Ironclaw belongs to Sanguine Publishing. Please keep your appendages inside the vehicle at all times. Suspend disbelief. This will be strange, stranger than strange, and stranger even than that. Signed reviews and constructive criticism accepted. Flames will be hit with Perdo Ignem spells and fed to the mastiffs.

**Ranma-chan In Fur**

A Ranma/Ironclaw crossover from the MadPanda

Part the First

Saotome Ranma, martial artist _extraordinaire_ and bipedal entropy magnet, was in Nerima General Hospital yet again. The immediate cause was multiple bone fractures in his left arm and leg, a major concussion, and an allergic reaction to his breakfast. The actual cause was still a mystery. There were so many possibilities from which one might choose. Maybe it was the constant wear and tear of his rivals and their belligerent attention. Maybe it was his reluctant fiancée's complete and utter inability to cook edible food. Maybe it was a training accident. Whatever the true underlying cause of his multiple injuries, here he lay, blissed out on painkillers and having the trip of his young life.

This time, he'd been given the really _good_ drugs. He knew this because he was having the most lifelike hallucination he'd ever experienced. It had begun with a truly cool laser-light show out in the hallway, followed by this group of junior high students bursting into his room. All of them were wearing animal masks and stuff, and costumes straight out of this show called Slayers After or something like that. Seriously good happy pills today, you bet. And through the fog in his head, Ranma remembered to marvel at the power of his imagination. He'd certainly never thought of something so detailed and complex before! Why, these illusionary kids were even babbling away in some weird language. Bereft of any good reason not to do so, the Wild Stallion of Nerima relaxed and went with the flow. His was not to question why, his was but to lie here and wonder why…

"Are you sure this is the right room? We were supposed to find a boy. This one's a girl. I mean, see those breasts?" The kid in the wolf mask pointed to Ranma's chest. "Nice, firm, bouncy…very sweet rack, for a hairless ape thing. If I had a taste for other species, I might even drool a little."

"Trust me. This is the right room. Let's get the gate up and get him out of here." That came from a kid with a black fluffy c…ca…feline mask. "And cut the perversions. We're on company time, here."

"But he's a she. You're a married man, so I must assume you know the difference between a man and a woman…" Wolfie again.

"Smart-dray! Lady Rumiko gave us very clear instructions. She's a he. So let's get to it and you can ask her to explain this herself when we get back." Black Fuzzy sounded pretty annoyed.

"Hey, Vincent? How long's that Sleep spell good for?" What was that? A weasel? A ferret? Something like that.

"Long enough, why?" Black Fuzzy again, getting frustrated.

"Oh, it's probably nothing, but I thought I saw someone out there waking up." Weasel shrugged. "Not like we were supposed to make contact with the natives or use magic or anything like that, but…"

"Right. Well, if you'd quit screwing around and help me put up the damn gate, we could be gone before anything else happens! So gimme a hand with this already!" Black Fuzzy used a tone that Ranma had heard before, normally from Elder Cologne. It meant 'just do it or I kick your butt'. He almost felt sorry for the weasel-masked kid.

"Yeah, yeah, okay…"

The Black Fuzzy, Wolfie, and Weasel disappeared around the head of the bed. There was a clinking, clanking, thumping noise that repeated a few times. Then the door swung open again to admit this really small kid in a mouse mask, another larger kid in a white fluffy ca…feline mask, and a larger kid in a moose mask, complete with antlers.

"Husband," White Fuzzy said. "I hope you're almost done. We've got company."

"This is the subject?" Mouse, in monotone.

"Yes, this is the one we were sent to help." White Fuzzy.

"Interesting." Mouse rubbed her hands together in a parody of every evil scientist from every bad monster movie Ranma had ever seen. He almost expected to hear her cackle with glee, and he felt strangely disappointed when she did not.

"I say," and the Moose put in two yen while brandishing a very large, rather impressive battle-axe. Great trip, man. "You _are_ aware that they've got guards here?"

"Yes, I know!" Black Fuzzy's voice. "Almost there…"

"Got it," Wolf and Weasel responded in unison. "Powering up now."

A sickly green glow painted everything in the room. For the first time in several minutes, Ranma felt a vague touch of concern. What now? Oh, wait. This was all just a figment of his imagination, wasn't it? In that case, nothing to worry about.

"Everybody take hold!" Black Fuzzy was obviously in charge around here. Sort of like Doctor Tofu, Ranma thought.

All of the costumed kiddies laid hands on part of his bed and braced themselves.

"On three, heave. One!"

The bed lurched forward, as if these bizarre daydream creatures were actually moving it.

"Two!"

That was, of course, impossible. It was probably really just an earthquake. This couldn't be any more real than, say, a boy turning into a girl, or a man becoming a panda…all right, that was a poor choice of examples.

"Three!"

The world went away, which is terribly cliché but easier than trying to explain the feeling of turning inside-out through five spatial dimensions, being tied into a Moebius loop, and then shaken out like a bed sheet fresh from the clothes dryer.

When Ranma could again feel his brain, in a manner of speaking, he…or, rather, still she, was immediately and acutely aware of three things. First, she was hungry. Very hungry. Very haven't-eaten-in-a-week hungry in a Kasumi's-on-vacation sort of way. Second, she was quite naked under the mostly clean and not quite fresh linen sheets and heavy blanket that were all that stood between her and an indecent exposure charge. Third, this was not her room.

'Cell' would be a more accurate description. It was maybe three meters on a side, and it contained another bed, currently empty, with a small chest at its foot. So logically there was a second chest at the foot of this bed…but Ranma's head decided to use that moment to demonstrate why lying still is often a good thing to do after you've suffered a head injury or two.

So this was not the hospital room. And it was also most certainly in no way, shape, or form the Tendo's guest room. That left only a billion or so more questions that needed answering.

Like this one: why was her face so…long? It didn't feel quite right for some reason, as if something had changed while she was out. She laughed at herself. It came out…different. Why, if she didn't know any better, that might have been a whinny!

Quietly intense voices approached the simple wooden door from the other side. Ranma recognized the two Fuzzy things, and one other…

"You are certain," asked the unfamiliar voice. The speaker was male, possibly older, and quite dignified.

"Yes, my lord, quite certain," said White Fuzzy.

"There is no doubt. I have sent Umbra to Her Excellency with a missive explaining the, uhm, the complication." That was Black Fuzzy. "Surely _she_ will have some idea of what we ought to do with him."

"Vincent, you keep referring to this filly as if she were a colt…"

"My Lord, I have no intention of doing else. Lady Rumiko was most insistent on that point, and I would sooner argue with you than risk her wrath."

"Point taken. Her Ladyship is most intimidating in her wrath. So, very well, in spite of all appearances to the contrary, the girl's a boy. I can accept that whimsical peculiarity."

"And there's the other problem. You recall what we told you of the beings in that strange realm?" White Fuzzy again. "Their appearance and mannerisms?"

"Yes. What of them?"

"I ought to show you. I beg your mercy, My Lord, but have a care not to wake her…"

The door opened and White Fuzzy peeked in.

"Hi," Ranma said. "I'm awake, so you can stop whisperin'."

"Merciful Light!" White Fuzzy gasped and gaped for a second. Then the woman rushed to Ranma's side and felt her forehead. Behind her, Black Fuzzy sidled into the room, followed by some guy in a zebra mask. Both of them, the black furball and zebra-head, were dressed like extras out of that Prince Valiant comic strip that Ranma had seen once over at Daisuke's place.

"She looks a lot like Savuti's little friend, doesn't she?" Zebra nodded to Black Fuzzy. "So what's the problem?"

"My Lord jests, surely," Black Fuzzy frumped. "She was not like this when we found her. She was…quite native, shall we say?"

"A hairless ape-thing? If you insist, but she rather looks like people to me."

"I'm right here, ya know," Ranma grumbled.

Zebra chuckled. "The lass has spirit, I see. A little fire in her belly, eh? Good! Wonderful! Better than excellent, wouldn't you say, Vincent?"

Black Fuzzy sighed. "Of course, Your Grace. Most excellent. I dread to ask why precisely this should be so, but you will tell me in your own time…"

The zebra was no longer paying attention to the cat by his side. He had turned instead to Ranma, looking her over carefully. Without warning, the nobleman pointed at the young martial artist.

"You, there, are you man or a woman?"

"I'm a guy!" Ranma responded, sitting bolt upright and making the usual bold gestures of self-affirmation.

"Excellent!" Zebra turned back to Black Fuzzy. "She…HE will do beautifully. My good lady wife will hit the roof, but then she does that anyway. Now, if you'll kindly explain matters to the poor…boy? I've an argument with a certain bishop to pursue."

"As Your Grace insists." Black Fuzzy frowned and stood out of the way as Zebra exited, stage right.

"Ooo, now he's gone and done it," said White Fuzzy, stamping her paw on the floor. "Poor girl won't know what happened, so she won't. You'd think he'd have learned to leave well enough alone!"

"Excuse me," said Ranma.

"I swear, husband! The next thing you know, His Nobs will expect…oh, I'm sorry, dear. What was it you wanted?"

"Uhm," Ranma cleared her throat softly. "Two things? First, could I get something to eat?"

"Of course, dear! Vincent…"

"I'll send someone up from the kitchens right away," Black Fuzzy nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

"And the second, my dear?'

Here the infamous Saotome Mouth caught up with Ranma. Instead of only a single carefully considered question from the many clamoring for space in his head being politely presented, he blurted out all of them, all at once. "What's going on? Where am I? Who are you people? Why are you all wearing animal masks? Where's Akane? What's wrong with my face? Where's Pops? What do you want with me?"

White Fuzzy gaped at the verbal torrent for a moment and then threw her head back and laughed long and well.

"You _are_ feeling better, I see. Eat, young one, and after that we will see what we can do to help you understand."

"Food first?" Ranma tried and failed to bank the enthusiasm the thought of a full stomach evoked.

"Of course." White Fuzzy sounded amused. "Did they not feed you well where you came from?"

"Well, yeah, but…it feels like I ain't had nothin' in a bit. Like, days?"

The woman nodded.

"You haven't. But we'll mend that soon enough when Vincent returns."

The food arrived, borne on trays carried by the mouse and the Black Fuzzy, whose name was apparently Vincent. Supper proved to be a vegetarian menu with grain and greens predominating. Plain fare, if plentiful, but hunger is the best of all possible sauces and Ranma dug in with gusto. An absent brain cell noted that these people were neither alarmed nor surprised at her appetite.

Finally sated, Ranma thanked the two Fuzzy Persons for the meal. Before she could start her litany of questions again, the White Fuzzy cleared her throat.

"Introductions are in order. I am Sister Moonflower, priestess of the Order of Penitence, also known as S'Allumer. This is my husband, Vincent DeWithers, a magus of some repute. This is his apprentice, Pepper Justinsdottir. You, of course, are Ranma of the clan Saotome, Knight Errant of the Realm of Nerima."

"You…know me?"

"We know of you, son." Black Fuzzy…Vincent…nodded. "And thereby hangs a tale. You are wondering why you are not as you were, yes?"

"Uhm. Yeah?"

"So are we," Pepper the mouse stated flatly. "Some of us more than others."

"Apprentice! Behave!"

"Why? He is a very intriguing specimen. An experiment or two would do so very little harm…"

"Leave the boy alone, Pepper, there's a dear."

"Okay, I'm confused…you know about the, uh, curse?"

"Absolutely, my dear boy! Why, when Lady Rumiko, a very powerful and influential professional acquaintance of mine, took a personal interest in your life and livelihood, she told us a great deal about you: your marital entanglements, the rivalries, your unfortunate condition…the whole sorry, sordid tale of woe."

"She was most concerned that you survive in spite of your numerous adventures," Moonflower nodded firmly. "That's why she cane to us for aid. Oh, of course, as a formality she asked our liege lord to lend us on a case by case basis, but he doesn't know everything about the important work we do."

"His Grace means well," Vincent sighs, "but he does tend to overdo things a little and consider the consequences later."

"If at all," Pepper added very quietly.

"In any case," Vincent shot his apprentice a glare, "here's how this has worked in the past. At certain scheduled times, and also whensoever she directs me, I cast a special ritual that throws a portal between our two planes open for a short time. Once that's done, my wife casts any applicable healing or protective spells on you, and then we let the portal shut. Have you not noticed your unusually high ability to recover from injury?"

"Uh, you lost me right around 'schedule'."

"Now, on this particular occasion, your injuries were sufficiently severe that we had to physically bring you over to our world in order to cast the healing magic that would ensure your complete recovery. We've done this before, of course. Several times, in fact, with nary a hitch. But this time…well, the gate…it, uhm…"

"Slammed shut."

"Thank you, Pepper! I _was_ trying to cushion the blow for him."

"With the obvious effect on your person."

"I was getting to that, girl…"

"And one not so obvious one. You're locked."

"_Pepper!_"

"I'm locked?"

"Yes. You are likely to remain a girl until we can return you to your proper home."

"Why me?"

"Pepper, will you _please_ be quiet?"

"I have a theory. There is no such thing as a 'Curse of Jyusenkyo' here. As you were a girl when you arrived, so you shall remain until you return to your own plane. There your ability to change from male to female will again be open to you."

"Now, let's not jump to conclusions, Pep…"

"Is my assessment in error, Master? Is this Curse of Jyusenkyo within the realm of our knowledge of Thaumaturgy?"

"No, but…"

"_I'm locked_?"

"It's only temporary, dear," Moonflower interrupted the three way confusion, patting Ranma's arm. "We will find a way to re-open the gate and send you home again. That is a promise. Though it may take some time, we _will_ return you to your own people."

Ranma whimpered, and Pepper gave the crimson-maned filly something that might possibly be interpreted as a smile. The very act seemed to tax the limits of her emotional range.

"Be of good cheer, sir knight. Think of this as a respite from your normal life. There is little here to compare to the madness you know only too well. No assassins striking over meals owed. No madwomen claiming your hand. Not even that honorless, mannerless, directionless fool who consorts with your ill-arranged bride will find you here."

"Oh, you know about that?" Vincent sounded quite surprised.

"Of course she does," Moonflower frowned at her husband. "I told her about it. Really! Such shameful behavior! Well, it's not my place to judge one way or the other. I am certain that you have a good reason to maintain your promise to him in spite of his lack of chivalrous propriety. But your host's willingness to overlook such dishonor, and the actions of the others…were it my place I would demand an explanation from them, in such rough language as modesty might permit!"

"I thought I carefully excised all mention of such…inappropriate conduct from, uh, Pepper's copy of Lady Rumiko's letters."

"You did," the little mouse nodded, no sign of either smug satisfaction or sarcasm in her features. "There were fascinating gaps in the provided data. I made inquiries."

"She asked me, husband, and I answered her," Moonflower smirked. "And I promise you this, Sir Ranma, she does not at all approve of this Ryoga person."

"I would very much like to meet him," Pepper said. "But for now I must return to my studies. Fare you well, Sir Ranma." With that, the little black-speckled white mouse swept out of the room. Ranma looked back at Moonflower.

"You say she doesn't like Ryoga, but she just said…"

Moonflower held up a paw to interrupt. "She _does_ want to meet him, Ranma. But, look you, my young charge did not say _why_ she wanted to meet him, nor what she intends to do if given the chance."

Ranma thought about this. Gradually the hidden menace in the mouse's quiet, soft, emotionally flat statement became evident. She shuddered, feeling a sudden pang of sympathy for Ryoga.

"Is she always like this?"

"Oh, not at all. She normally cares not a whit for the troubles of others. You seem to have gotten her attention. Perhaps she is upset over the 'blame Ranma' reflex everyone in Nerima seems to have." Moonflower sighed. "Either that or she finds you attractive. It's difficult to tell with her sometimes. For your sake, Sir Ranma, I hope it is the former."

"Yeah, me too. I got enough girls after me already."

"Rest assured, Sir Ranma, you are more than likely safe from that particular problem while you are here. Well, mostly safe…most of the time…from, er, most…well, you know." Moonflower shifted and shot her husband a sidelong glance full of some hidden meaning.

"So long as His Excellency does not do something unfortunate and ill-considered." Vincent pondered this and somberly added, "which is sadly quite like the man, come to think it..."

Moonflower absently patted Ranma's arm.

"His lady wife is of good character and judgment, if perhaps tempestuous of humor. She will not permit him to overstep his bounds too far. She may even intervene if he so much as seems as though he might." But the fluffy white cleric did not sound as sure of this as could be hoped.

"And if Her Excellency does not, the Lady Anarisse certainly will," Vincent nodded solemnly. "Well, my, er, lad…perhaps you'd feel like a little light exercise? I will show you around the castle, if you are up for it."

"Yeah, that'd be cool."

The twenty-yen tour, as Ranma would fondly remember it later, took several hours. There was so much to remember…but it all boiled down to this place, Chateau de Valleronde, with its tiny round keep and its wood-and-earth ramparts, the village just down the hill, and the other tiny village next to the lake. Vincent introduced her to several important villagers—the blacksmith, the innkeeper, the village elders, too many people to remember. They were all mostly friendly enough: they greeted the black cat with respect and gazed at Ranma with open curiosity but without asking questions. She was still getting her mind around the distinct lack of violent challenges when they returned to the Chateau for supper.

"Vincent, I'm going to be here for a while, right?"

"Quite probably, Sir Ranma. Quite probably."

Ranma sighed. "So you're helpin' me get used to stuff, right? Just in case."

"Something like that, yes. And also I thought you'd appreciate not lying around in bed any more. Lady Rumiko seemed sure that you were the active type." The cat chuckled. "We'll get you home soon, good sir knight. In the meantime, rest and heal." One paw patted Ranma's shoulder absently. "Some wounds heal slower, for all that they leave no scars. You've more than your share of those."

"Yeah, well, nothin' I can't handle…"

Vincent chuckled again. "Lad, I've been a married man for fifteen summers or so, a father for fourteen. I'm a master magus in good standing with my order, one of a coterie in the Baron's service, and no stranger to the hardships of campaigning. I know bald-faced bravado when I hear it."

"I can handle it!"

"Not alone, you can't. Anyone who claims otherwise is either mad or dishonest, and possibly both. Now come, let's get you in to supper. We'll discuss this later when we're in better company."

Supper was…different. It was in many ways just like supper at the Tendo's, but in a much bigger room with ten times as many people attending. It was noisy. It was crowded. And it was the first time Ranma got a good look at the Baron's entourage. Most of them were horses, but a few weasels and rhinos were present, along with a single porcupine. The moose, wolf, and weasel from earlier were easy to spot, as were the two cats. Ranma didn't have to look for Pepper: she sat to her right. An older male mouse with ink-stained paws sat to her left; Pepper's father, Justin.

The Baron himself sat at one end of the great hall, flanked on one side by a severely pretty chestnut mare and on the other by a chestnut filly with black zebra-like stripes…the Baroness Bianca and Lady Anarisse, Pepper assured the girl in her soft monotone.

Wait…family dinner, single daughter, and a father who was only too happy to meet Ranma? Alarm bells sounded in the back of Ranma's head, and she started to rise, the better to make her escape. Pepper's paw fell ever so gently onto the scarlet-maned martial artist's shoulder.

"I will not blame you if you go. Alas, fleeing will not prevent this," she said quietly. "His Excellency is stubborn in full and proportionate measure with his folly. But if you remain, perhaps we might together find a way to…avenge your dignity in proper measure, shall I say?"

As Ranma struggled briefly with the very idea of an equal and opposite revenge, the Baron stood and clapped his hands to get everyone's attention.

"I have an announcement to make. We have with us as a guest one Sir Ranma of Nerima, who has traveled from his homeland in the great and mysterious realm of Zhong-guo to be here. Stand up, Sir Ranma, if you would."

With great reluctance, Ranma got to her feet and bowed awkwardly to the room.

"Uhm, hello. I'm Saotome Ranma. Pleased to meet you."

There were a few murmurs among the gathered vassals, but if anyone noted the Baron's persistent use of the male pronoun for an obviously female person, they weren't making a major issue of it. She noted that the chestnut filly at the head table had suddenly relaxed. Ranma felt she could almost predict what the other girl was thinking, right that second: she's a girl, I don't have to worry, not even _my_ father would be that stupid…but the Baroness had leaned forward, regarding Ranma with a critical eye. As the Baron started talking again, Ranma swore she saw a twinkle in the mare's eye.

"If memory serves me aright, the Empire is quite powerful and wealthy. A man could make worse friends, yes? Thus, in the interests of furthering better relations between his people and ours, and with an eye as well firmly fixed upon my beloved daughter's best interests and prospects, we have decided that Sir Ranma and the Lady Anarisse are to wed come the Autumnal Equinox. Isn't that wonderful?"

In the dreadful seconds of stunned silence that followed, as the Baron spread his arms wide and grinned at the shocked assembly, Ranma found herself meeting Anarisse's eyes. With a shrug, Ranma found herself repeating those words that had come to her all too often whenever she met someone new.

"Sorry about this."

And then the hall erupted into furious noise, part celebration and part argument, which frankly came as something of a relief…

**To Be Continued**

Author's Notes

You saw that last bit coming a mile away, didn't you? It's a well-known fact of the Ranmaverse that the boy never, ever escapes romantic entanglements and the resulting chaos that goes with them.

Why, you ask, why, a thousand times why? Well, Ranma translates roughly as 'crazy horse' or 'wild stallion' among other things. And when Sanguine published Jadeclaw, the 'Oriental Adventures' version of their fine furry fantasy game, they included a sample character named Magnificent Weasel who was a basically an uncursed Ranma. So the idea of dropping poor ol' Ran-chan into Furryland for a vacation just sort of seemed 'logical'. This is what happens when your regular gaming group consists of furry fans who are also anime fans.

Yes, he will eventually get to go home. He might even have reinforcements…anybody want to see what happens when Pepper finally gets her mitts on Ryoga? Heh heh heh.

Incidentally, most of the furry folk in this are former player characters from a number of short-duration Ironclaw games that we've run. That includes the Baron. And yes, his player freely admits that a sudden engagement is indeed something he might pull on his tomboyish daughter and heir designate…


	2. Chapter 2

This is my mind. Welcome to it. Credits will follow the main feature. Out-Of-Character and Self-Insert warnings abound. Ranma belongs to the nice folks at Viz Video and to the wonderful, wild, wicked Takahashi Rumiko. Ironclaw belongs to Sanguine Publishing. Please keep your appendages inside the vehicle at all times. Suspend disbelief. This will be strange, stranger than strange, and stranger even than that. Signed reviews offering constructive criticism accepted. Flames will be hit with _Perdo Ignem_ spells and fed to the mastiffs…which in Ironclaw are velociraptors since Dogs are People.

**Ranma-chan In Fur**

A Ranma/Ironclaw crossover from the MadPanda

Part the Second

Ranma was stargazing. Every time his life got too strange, too crazy, too full of pain and craziness to tolerate, he found that the simple act of lying back and staring out into the night sky helped him regain mental balance. It worked even when he was on a strange world, staring at unfamiliar stars, lying on the cold stone roof of a castle keep instead of the Tendo roof.

Below in the Great Hall the shouting and cheering and bickering caused by the Baron's surprise announcement continued unabated. By now, the nobleman was probably breaking out his best ale and wine, hoping to smooth things along with a lot of alcohol. That wouldn't have been one of Ranma's first suggestions, given how 'interesting' booze always made his life. He sighed in resignation. Nobody was likely to ask him what he thought about matters, least of all his opinion on this new engagement. Should've seen it coming, he thought. Should have, would have, could have…didn't. And now, against all sense and reason, he had yet another fiancée!

Next to the sheer absurdity of that sudden announcement, the idea of being stuck in some mystical, magical world where animals acted like people seemed barely worth the bother it took to notice! Even being trapped in girl-mode was somehow less disturbing than the sinking feeling in her stomach that no matter where he went, another engagement would follow shortly.

A shadow appeared up out of the roof, rising out of the stairwell. Ranma paid it no heed until it cast about, this way and that, before approaching him. A moment later the figure cleared its throat.

"Might I join you?" It was a very female voice, quiet but strong, with an underlying tone that indicated that here was someone used to being obeyed…a voice like Nabiki's without the implied sneer.

"Uh…sure. And you are…?"

"Anarisse d'Assante del Amino," the newcomer snorted with ill-concealed humor. "Your intended bride. Or perhaps your intended groom, if you'd rather I take that role. It matters little to me."

"I, uh…no offense but, uh…"

"You do not wish my hand in marriage."

"No…not really."

Anarisse gave another amused snort.

"Fear not, I take no offense: I've no greater wish to marry you than you do me! Never mind that you are a guest, never mind you are…" She coughed discretely. "How is it that even one as ambitiously dense as my sire has failed to realize that you are a woman?"

"I'm a guy!"

"You are a woman; a well-endowed and comely one at that. One would have to be blind, deaf, and stark raving mad to mistake you for else! My sire's but the last, and that only halfway."

"Believe what you want," Ranma grumbled in resignation. This argument had been old the second time the Tendos had started it up, and Ranma _really_ didn't feel like going through this yet again. At least this time he didn't get felt up, too! Stupid curse…stupid, stupid old man…damn stupid pools of sorrow….

For several moments, the two sat on the cold stone in sullen silence, one gloomy and the other irritated. Finally, Anarisse cleared her throat.

"Yet you seem just as clearly in your right mind. And from your rough manner and speech, you were at the very least raised like a boy." She flicked an ear. "_And_ you are accustomed to surprise engagements."

"Huh? How'd you know? I mean, uh…"

She gave a dry and bitter laugh. "When Father gave his speech, I beheld you directly. Yours was not the face of an expectant spouse-to-be."

Ranma considered this. "You know, you're probably the first fiancée I've ever had who didn't blame me for the engagement…"

"I am no fool, to mistake surprise for longing! I know astonishment when I see it. And I know my father." Anarisse snorted. "This is not the first time he's tried such a trick. And it shan't be the last, mark my words. But you _are_ the first girl to whom I've been offered…"

"You're my…uhm, eighth fiancée. And the first that my old man didn't arrange. That ain't counting my so-called Amazon wife…"

"Eight? Such a surplus!"

"Yeah. Eight that I know about. With _my_ luck, there might be a dozen more. And family honor dictates that I gotta marry all of them." Ranma spat bitterly.

Anarisse let silence fall again for a few moments. Eventually, she held out one hand to the buxom red-maned filly.

"That makes this simpler. It is plain we cannot be wed. Neither your personal honor nor my own conscience will permit it! But…perhaps you would instead content yourself to be my friend?"

Wide-eyed, remembering all too well another offer of friendship extended and then withdrawn by another tomboy, Ranma gingerly grasped Anarisse's hand and nodded carefully. The other girl smiled warmly and opened her mouth to say something else, but they were interrupted by soft applause from the stairwell.

"I am interrupting you," Pepper commented. It was a soft statement of fact, not a question.

"What news, Apprentice?"

"Seeing your ladyship's maiden virtue in peril, your good mother wishes that you should not remain unwatched. I volunteered to undertake that task on her behalf." The mouse tilted her head to one side. "As I am an innocent child who does not understand relations between women, come what may, I shall report that nothing untoward has happened."

Anarisse chuckled. "Wonders unceasing! Apprentice, thou hast told a ribald jest!"

"Have I?"

"Just now!"

"Have I indeed," Pepper turned to Ranma. "And you, sir knight, do you also find my words lewd in their merriment?"

"Huh? Uh…ya mean, didja tell a dirty joke? I, uh…I can't tell."

Anarisse broke out into sudden braying laughter, clapping Ranma's shoulder. Pepper merely nodded.

"Her Excellency is but poor informed. 'Tis not the maiden charms of her daughter that besieged lie, but those of her knightly intended. Come a ways, Sir Ranma. I would show you to your chambers again, that you might rest."

"Oh, leave off! We are engaged to marry," Anarisse snickered. "I may to bed with him if I wish it…"

"And then I should dispose my charge and watch, that no wickedness should be done by this man to you. Perhaps another evening he might consort with you past bedtime?"

Ranma sighed heavily and held her head in her hands. She was used to Hiroshi and Daisuke talking about things that she didn't understand but that were clearly 'naughty'…and the banter between noblewoman and spellcaster was sounding awfully familiar!

"Thanks, Pepper. I could use the sleep. G'nite, Anarisse. And thanks."

"Mention it not, friend. Sleep you well. Pepper, keep to thy charge."

The little Mouse showed Ranma back to his room and left him to fall into a restless, haunted sleep. While nightmares of the Neko-ken left him alone, taunting thoughts of Nerima and the others played through the theatre of his mind into the small hours of the morning. They were still very much with him when he rose at last.

He found a corner of the castle courtyard for his morning workout and ran through several _kata, _startingwith a beginner's pattern As he came to the end of the fourth, his concentration was broken by soft applause. Ranma turned to regard a slender Ermine in well-made but simple clothes. He bore a wrapped bundle in his arms.

"Good morning, young one," the white-furred fellow said in a voice dry as autumn leaves. "By your leave, I have a question for you."

"Uhm, sure. I guess."

"Will you learn from your sire's folly and strive to grow past it to your betterment?"

"What…whaddya mean?"

"Consider this: two women, one who seems false but is faithful, and one who seems faithful but is anything but. Which one would an honorable man prefer as a wife?"

"Uh…" Ranma frowned. This was a really weird conversation…and why did it always come back to marriage?

"What does your heart tell you, boy?"

"Better the true one who seems unfaithful," Ranma blurted out without thinking.

"Why? She would bring ridicule and scandal upon you."

"You can trust her. Even if everyone else thinks otherwise. The other one just…she's cheating. Taking unfair advantage. Like…like breaking a promise an' then lying about having made one in the first place."

The Ermine nodded. "Now tell me, boy…that sire of yours, how would he have answered?"

Ranma grinned. "Whichever one came with more free food."

"Honor be damned, eh? And can you trust a man without honor?"

"No way!"

"Just so. Yet you let three such people rule you in so many ways. Think on that, boy. Here ends today's lesson. For the rest, my name is Brandeis. My mistress has charged me with your instruction on three matters. We'll begin again on the morrow. For now, dress and eat." The man patted the bundle. "This is your prize, sir knight. Prove worthy of her interest, and it is yours…but only when you are ready for it. Now get you gone and we'll talk again tomorrow."

"What are you, some kind of master warrior?"

"Would you respect me more ere I spouted titles? My mistress tells me you've enough of those sorts of instructors already. I am not one more. On the morrow, Sir Knight."

With a final, somewhat deeper bow, the white-furred man stalked away into the keep again, leaving Ranma to his own devises for breakfast. Anarisse and Pepper found him some time later, hunched over in thought and turning Brandeis's words over and over in his head. Anarisse immediately asked her friend what was wrong, and Ranma outlined his talk with the mysterious Ermine.

"Who's he, anyway?"

"Brandeis served with Father, back before Father married Mother. I say served with, for he himself swears fealty to none but his mysterious patron."

"She is of the Zhong-guo, according to Master Vincent," Pepper added. "She is a great sorceress who visits Calabria from time to time on business."

_Meaning me_, Ranma thought. "So he is a warrior after all."

"Of sorts. We've many ways of fighting, here. Not all of them involve swords or fists. Our speckled friend here is well-versed in such. Aren't you, Pepper?"

"I admit some small skill in such matters."

Ranma laughed at the Mouse's deadpan delivery. Her monotonous and soft words seemed almost more boastful than if she'd puffed out her chest and shouted.

"Yeah, an' I'm a housewife-in-training! But the reason I was wondering is…he said Pops was a fool. How'd he know?"

"The lady whom he serves must take a great interest in your home, friend," Anarisse mused, coming unknowingly to the correct answer. "Tell me, does thy sire oft prattle on about one way to live whilst doing something else?"

"All the time! He and Tendo-san keep harpin' on how it's a matter of honor that I marry the tomboy, an' about how it's all my fault when stuff goes wrong, but never mind helpin' out or…"

Pepper's interruption took both young Horses by surprise.

"_Honor_ is about integrity! One does not merely keep up appearances and keep claim to't! To do thus is rankest hypocrisy, not chivalrous and right!" She twitched her nose as if in disgust at some sudden, foul smell. "Many are they who cannot tell the difference."

"Cannot be bothered, you mean," Anarisse chuckled.

Ranma shook her head. "But…it's dishonorable to lose face, isn't it?"

Pepper turned her calm eyes to the fire-maned filly. Her voice seemed, somehow, to grow colder. "Is it not a wrongful act to hide behind another's honor, to take advantage of an honest promise made for honorable reasons?"

_She wants to meet Ryoga, _Ranma remembered with a sudden shudder. "Y-yeah, okay, I guess I can see your point…but that's dishonorable, to abuse a promise."

Pepper seemed to frown for a moment. Then she provided another example.

"Is it not wrong to hold a grown man, by his honor, to a promise made when he was a small child? A promise that no child could have understood?"

Ranma went pale. _Yeah, of course she'd know about that._

Anarisse gave Ranma a strange, sideways look. Leaning closer, she whispered to her accidental fiancé.

"What manner of fool is thy sire?"

"One who is all appetite and naught but appetite," Pepper commented wryly, beating Ranma to the punch. "His mother is as bad, or worse, seeing in basest actions those sharpest proofs of his worthiness."

"Basest actions?"

"Country matters," Pepper stated firmly in her quiet monotone. Anarisse shook her head and sighed.

"And his other intended brides? Do they invite resolution to this curious state of affairs?"

"One beats him daily on suspicion of same, and less than that. Another holds his old affection for a childhood friend o'er him like a sword. The third claims already to be his wife and forces upon him attentions he desires not nor seeks out…and in such brazen fashion that he cannot but escape without intimacies, whereupon he is beaten."

"Hey! It ain't that bad…"

"You are too forgiving!" With that, the little Mouse sprang to her feet and scurried away. Anarisse watched her go, then gave Ranma a slight grin.

"I see she is in a foul humor. I should but warn you, she hath ne'er afore this shown such passion in any matter. Nor has her discourse been thus agitated…"

"Ya mean she don't usually talk so much?"

"No, not in all the years I have known her." Anarisse's grin broadened. "Mayhap the apprentice wishes that which I have. Take care, sir knight, that she force herself not upon you with her wicked ways and foul intent!"

It took a moment for the fire-maned martial artist to understand what his 'fiancée' meant. Then, slowly and deliberately, Ranma pounded his head against the wall as Anarisse laughed at his plight.

"It never ends…another girl chasin' me…what'd I ever do to the _kami_ to deserve this?"

Anarisse laughed. "My poor friend! Many's the maid who bemoans a lack of good suitors, and here you who have no lack wants for peace!"

After a moment, Ranma joined in, sharing his friend's amusement…and their joined laughter made the morning a little brighter for all.

Later that day, he met Brandeis again. This time, the Ermine was in the company of a large, ugly, probably female Something that reminded Ranma of the Amazon he had once seen fight Shampoo in her village…only the Amazon had been better looking than this person! She was clad in well-worn and rugged clothing that did little to disguise her powerful form.

"Ranma! There you are. Here, perhaps you might satisfy a matter of mutual curiosity," Brandeis beckoned to him. "My mistress has told me you are of no small skill with the arts of the Empty Hand, yes?"

"Uh, yeah. So?"

Brandeis turned to the Big Ugly Person. "There, you see? If my mistress has told the truth, surely he will suffice?"

"Feh. All I see is a little girl," the Big Ugly spat. "Should be home with her mother, not here." She cracked her knuckles and leered down at the tiny red-maned filly.

"Ayy, me. Sir Ranma, perhaps you would…"

"No way. I don't hit girls. Not even big ugly ones."

Brandeis suddenly took a large step back as the Big Ugly gave a nasty chuckle and flexed her massive paws.

"Coward, are you?"

Ranma stopped, eyes narrowed. "Izzat a challenge?"

In response, the Big Ugly just beckoned Ranma to attack. Ranma frowned and assumed a ready stance. The Saotome Ryu usually taught that one let the opponent make the first move…but it became clear in seconds that his opponent also knew that rule! Distantly he was aware of a swiftly gathering crowd of on-lookers.

Suddenly, the Big Ugly moved. She was _fast!_ Ranma dodged…and had to keep dodging as she sent another punch after the first, then a kick and another combination of punches after that.

"Huh," she said as she bounced back into her initial stance. "You dance, little girl, but can you fight?"

Something about this situation felt familiar—it was almost like that first spar with Akane. Almost. Ranma shook his head. Uncute tomboys everywhere! Only this one probably wouldn't care if he called her that.

"I don't hit chicks."

The Big Ugly snorted and resumed the attack. Again Ranma dodged, weaving out of the way again and again. Too many people here to risk the Hiryu Shouten Ha…

A fist the size of a ham hock finally connected. It felt almost like one of Ryoga's punches! Rolling with the hit, Ranma barely kept on his feet, skidding to a dusty stop several feet back. For whatever reason, the Big Ugly simply returned to her ready stance and waited.

"Useless little slip of a girl. No fighter at all! We should send her home to her parents."

"Hey!"

Ranma recognized the pattern—insult and taunt your opponent until they lose their composure. The first one to lose control loses. He'd done it often enough. Genma had done it to him often enough! It was damnably effective…and even though he _knew_ he shouldn't get upset, his pride was stung just enough.

"I'm Saotome Ranma and I never lose!"

"Words."

This time, Ranma was expecting the attack. It helped that the woman seemed to be giving…him…too late he realized that he was being tested. He blocked one blow, ducked another, and took another hit he hadn't seen coming. Ouch! Another Ryoga-strong blow followed that…and finally, the Wild Horse of Nerima struck back against his opponent. It wasn't meant to be more than symbolic defiance, but it struck her square in the chin…and felt like slugging Ryoga, to boot!

Again, she backed off and assumed ready stance…but this time she straightened up and laughed. She turned to Brandeis.

"He'll do, if he can be taught."

"She Who Sent Me does not think him unreachable in such matters."

"Hmph." The Big Ugly's beady little black eyes swung back to study Ranma again. "What's your problem, boy? Don't think a woman can kill you?"

"I…it ain't honorable ta hit girls! A martial artist is supposed ta defend the weak, not bully them."

She gave another snort of derision. "Look at me, boy. Do I look like some weak and timid little goodwife to you?"

"No…"

"Tomorrow I pray you will remember your manners sooner." With a laugh, the huge and strong woman strode off. A moment later, Brandeis followed, laughing and shaking his head.

"Sir Ranma, you are either half-mad or all fool," Anarisse chided him, approaching now that the entertainment was over.

"Huh?"

"Kasane was Mother's bodyguard for many years. She is a Hyena, to boot. They are proud warriors. Calling her weak and refusing to strike her is an insult almost beyond repair. She must have known you would do so…"

"Hyena? No wonder she's so ugly."

"More than most! That business about not hitting a woman…did your sire teach you that?"

"How'd you guess?"

Anarisse shook her head and smirked.

"You've bigger problems, my friend. Father wants to speak with you."

"Ah. Okay. Did he say when?"

"Now, actually."

"Oh. Crud."

_To Be Continued._

HAH! And you thought I'd died! The next chapter is in progress. Really!


	3. Chapter 3

This is my mind. Welcome to it. Credits will follow the main feature. Out-Of-Character and Self-Insert warnings abound. Ranma belongs to the nice folks at Viz Video and to the wonderful, wild, wicked Takahashi Rumiko. Ironclaw belongs to Sanguine Publishing. Please keep your appendages inside the vehicle at all times. Suspend disbelief. This will be strange, stranger than strange, and stranger even than that. Signed reviews offering constructive criticism accepted. Flames will be hit with _Perdo Ignem_ spells and fed to the mastiffs…which in Ironclaw are velociraptors since Dogs are People.

**Ranma-chan in Fur **

**Part the Third**

Having been warned by Anarisse, Ranma was not surprised to find himself officially summoned to the Baron's presence shortly after his brawl with the giant she-Hyena Kasane. There, he _was_ surprised to find his prospective father-in-law in slightly damaged condition: the Zebra had one arm in a sling and a blackened eye. In spite of his injury, the man still seemed quite cheerful. Beckoning Ranma closer with his good hand, the man dismissed his other servants.

"Come, Sir Ranma. We must talk. How do you like my daughter?"

"About that…uh, she's nice…"

"Yet you do not wish her hand in marriage."

Ranma winced even as the Baron continued.

"No need for that, my lad! As my lady wife, court wizard, and several others have this day been kind enough to point out, I should have explained affairs to you before…well, you know. And here, as you can see, some measure of justice hath prevailed." He gestured to his injured arm. "Yet had I done so, your reaction to my surprise would have seemed craftier than it was."

"Uhm, okay, I think…" Ranma took a moment to decipher the Kuno-speak, finally deciding that the Baron was apologizing for something, and nodded. "Just so ya know, Anarisse's kinda annoyed with ya about this."

"My daughter spends her life annoyed at me," the Baron chuckled. "And in this case I confess she has every right to do so. Were she the meek and ever-obedient child, I should not be half so reassured about her mettle! Yet will it make amends an' I explain that I do not intend that you should marry her?"

"I already told ya she doe…wait a sec! Ya _don't_?"

"Not in the least, dear boy. You are bound to return to your home, and by all our hopes you shall be on your way sooner rather than later. If the two of you were in fact to be bound, that distance alone would present a most troubling obstacle to marital bliss. It shall be enough that she has a fiancée in a distant foreign land, as this provides her some measure of…how shall I put it? Protection." The Zebra cleared his throat and lowered his voice. "My daughter is not only beautiful and exotic, but also heiress to two wealthy holdings. I intend she shall exercise that inheritance in her own right, not cede it to some greedy and grasping fop of a husband. Such men being a shilling the hundredweight, I have higher hopes for her spouse."

Ranma thought this over. Comprehension dawned at last. "I'm an _anti_-fiancé?"

The Baron laughed heartily. "Just so! I would sooner see my daughter embarrassed, angry, and in full right of her inheritance than bound by marriage to some petty and ambitious fool. Thus I pray you forgive an old man his little deceptions. Had I known it would distress you so badly, I should have been more cautious in my wording." He shook his head. "Between Vincent and good Moonflower, I have this day been upbraided enough for furthering your troubles! Is't true that you have such a wealth of fiancées by your sire's lackwit stomach?"

Ranma nodded glumly.

"Then I am truly sorry. It seemed such a fine jest, too…"

"Awww, it's okay. We kinda came to an agreement last night. We're gonna be friends…an' maybe I'll look back on this someday an' have a good laugh."

"Could be. Could be…yet now that you know my intent, might I ask that you act the part? Sit with Anarisse come suppertime. Exchange such small affections as might be common. Show my court that you are…"

"No way! We're both girls!"

The Baron tilted his head back and studied the rough ceiling of his chamber for a moment.

"You find her unpleasing?"

"No, she's cute an' all, but…"

"You are not truly a woman, are you?"

"I'm a guy, dammit!"

"Then you will not mind enjoying yourself for the sake of her future safety in this matter. And if Anarisse's tastes are said to be a touch exotic, so much the better for her. It will reduce the number of greedy and ambitious suitors accordingly if she is thought unlikely to bed a husband and give him an heir."

Ranma sighed, slumped, and turned to repeat the steady thump of his forehead against the wall. He just couldn't seem to escape this sort of situation… but on the bright side, at least the Baron wasn't demanding grandchildren!

"And if she don't like this idea?"

"Oh, discuss it with her first, by all means. If the two of you come to some subtle arrangement, that shall be all to the better."

Ranma blinked. "Ya mean…it's okay if we…uhm…"

The Baron looked at Ranma steadily, studying the filly before him for a long moment before speaking softly and seriously. "I am advised that you are indeed from a distant and strange land, where customs are not as they are here. I am also advised that your people do not take engagements quite as seriously as we do. Here in Calabria, the promise to marry is as good as the wedding ceremony itself. Many a bride's been brought to the altar with child, and there's no shame in it! Were you to be affianced to Anarisse in truth, you'd find more dishonor in breaking _that_ vow than in any act of cowardice in battle. Do we understand each other?"

Not trusting himself to speak, Ranma just nervously swallowed and nodded.

"Good. And there's an end to't. Bed her or not as your mutual consciences dictate. My Court Wizard insists you are a man at heart if not in form, and I'd sooner look a fool than question him to his face!" The Zebra grinned. "Get you gone, my lad, but mind how you go. Vincent hath made mention that his apprentice seems to have taken a shine to you. If Anarisse will not do, perhaps you'd consider Pepper?"

The man's laughter followed Ranma out of the Great Hall. Even here, it seemed, there was to be no rest for the martial artist, whose path was long and ever-fraught with peril. An anti-engagement made no sense, but then neither did anything else in his life. At least the Baron had apologized for the mess! When was the last time someone had done that for him?

Remembering Kasumi and her gentle kindness and generous courtesy, he hastily amended that thought: when was the last time someone apologized to him for something of this magnitude that they themselves had caused?

At supper that evening, following a hastily whispered conversation and much rolling of the eyes, Ranma sat next to Anarisse. Occasionally they touched hands in an innocent and seemingly accidental way. More than one member of the Baron's household noticed and nodded approval, if not active encouragement. By the end of the meal, both the young Horses were thoroughly embarrassed. Afterwards they parted--Anarisse to her chambers and Ranma to his, under Pepper's ever-watchful eye.

"You do not dislike my lady," she said just as they reached his door.

"She's okay. She's nice. She don't hit me…"

"Country matters confuse you, good sir knight?"

Ranma blinked. "Country matters? What's the countryside have to do with anything?"

Pepper laughed out loud. It was an awkward laugh, as if she was quite unused to making so much noise, or such a joyful one. She patted his arm, wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes, and shook her head.

"Thy intended, sir knight…thy intended is a mastiff among palfreys, that she doth strike thee for imagined perversions! She should rather treasure thee for thy innocence and dream of the day when she might relieve that burden. Truly, 'tis thy virtue and not her own that lies in peril…too, too forgiving! I must away. Rest thee well."

She skittered off in a rustle of robes, leaving a confused Ranma behind.

The next morning, Ranma got his first proper lesson from Brandeis. The Ermine was waiting for him, two practice swords at hand. He handed one to Ranma carefully. The young fighter immediately noted that it was fairly heavy, blunt, and straight.

"Here, lad. Take this."

"But…"

"I know, boy. Your fool sire told you that weapons are a crutch. My _second_ task is to train you in their proper use. The first time you try punching a foe in full armor, you'll thank me for it."

"What's the first task?"

"In good time. Now hold the blade like so…"

The next hour was quite different from his usual morning workouts, in feel if not in content. The Ermine didn't insult him. It was not a spar—the white-furred man demonstrated, and he copied. By the end of the hour, he felt moderately comfortable with the huge, blunt hunk of metal…and the Ermine seemed quite pleased with his new student's rapid progress.

"Needs a _kata_," Ranma muttered at long last.

"_Kata_," Brandeis responded dryly, "are also a crutch if you never move beyond them. Your school prides itself on an 'anything goes' approach. Is this not merely a new technique?"

"_Hai, sensei_!" Ranma flushed. He _knew_ that…

"And now another question for you to consider."

Ranma winced. "Yeah?"

"Given that your sire hath proven unworthy, muddy-mettled, and in profound error time and again…why hold his words so dear? Think on that. Here endeth the lesson. Go break your fast. Once that's done, I hear Kasane wishes a proper spar with you."

The next fortnight passed along a similar pattern. Brandeis provided both sage counsel and sword practice. Kasane beat Genma's sexism out of Ranma's mind, blow by blow and bout by bout. His would-be in-laws were distant yet supportive: neither pressuring the 'happy couple' to rush matters, nor keeping them apart out of some sense of peculiar propriety. As for the girls, Pepper's sisterly admonitions combined with Anarisse's halting and awkward flirtations to weave a backdrop to life that was at once familiar enough to comfort yet different enough to require that the young martial artist think before reacting.

Other events were less entertaining: Her Excellency the Baroness took it upon herself to teach Ranma both etiquette and dancing. She proved a harsh task-mistress, to the point that Ranma compared the Mare to Elder Cologne…only to find that not only did the noblewoman know of whom he spoke, she considered it a compliment! Gradually the young martial artist got a hang of the gentle Way of the Polite Horse. He would never be the darling of the social set, but the improvement was not hard to notice.

"Thou art changed, friend," Anarisse whispered to her fiery-maned fiancée one evening, as the two sat on the battlements and gazed up at the stars. "And that for the better, I think."

"Oh?" Ranma thought for a moment. "I guess."

"Will they value thee more now that thou art less a fool?"

Ranma shook her head. "Naw, I doubt it. My happiness was never their biggest priority." The temporary filly snorted. "They might not even bother noticing if I don't do what they expect. I might even have to…"

A warm, firm hand reached over and took Ranma's. It was followed by a gentle, sisterly kiss to one side of her nose.

"And even so, you are reluctant to hurt them. That says much in your favor! Would that you did not have to return!" Anarisse giggled softly. "Would that you were a man in form as well as mind…"

Ranma sighed and shook her head, smiling a little. Two weeks of merciless teasing from both Pepper and Anarisse (and without Akane's mallet being applied to his head) had done wonders.

"Then I'd be a fiancé in fact. Sure ya'd want that?"

Anarisse kissed Ranma again on the side of her nose.

"Were I less aware of what thy sire hath cost thee, friend Ranma, I should not be so afeared to have thee as my intended. Yet, knowing what I do, I would spare thee that worry and stay thy friend."

Ranma just shook her head and laughed. "Too bad I can't take ya with me! Be nice to have some backup once in a while. Real support, I mean."

Anarisse looked at Ranma for a moment, finally shaking her head a little.

"I could not…and besides, I might hurt them on your behalf. Could you have that on your conscience, friend?"

"Naww. Not really. But…they don't seem to care how hurt I get, ya know? And that…"

"It wrenches your heart," Anarisse nodded.

For a moment, Ranma considered saying words he'd never admit to knowing: _maybe I won't go back_. The moment passed when a gruff voice floated over to the two.

"Pardon the interruption." Brandeis stalked out onto the wall. "Student mine, I have received word from my lady concerning the disposal of your heartfelt charge. To wit, she has vouchsafed unto the wizards here an alternative ritual that might allow you to return home. Can you bear another fortnight with your hosts?"

Ranma blinked, slowly making sense of the old Ermine's words.

"I can."

"Good. There is a task…a thing to set aright. Once done, you shall return home with what honors we might bestow. We'll speak more of this in the morning."

Brandeis bowed to Anarisse. "By your leave, my Lady." Then he departed as dourly as he had arrived.

"Now what," Ranma whispered, even as his friend bestowed a one-armed hug upon her.

"You will return home," she whispered. "And I will pray to the Light every night that you are spared such pain as may be done."

The two sat in comfortable silence for a long time after that, under the watchful eye of a certain speckled Mouse, who hid her own smile behind a dainty hand and planned.

**To Be Continued**

Author's _Mea Culpa_—wretched gender pronouns! Male in mind, female in form…


End file.
